


Cut the Mustard

by Peskychloe



Series: Sandwiched [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anxiety, Chubby Sugawara, Fluff and Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Pining, Sugawara is much older, chef!akaashi, salaryman!ennoshita, seriously everyone's ages are completely different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peskychloe/pseuds/Peskychloe
Summary: Akaashi Keiji needs more experience in the food industry before he can fulfil his dream of owning his own restaurant. When a spot managing the cafe at Koushi's comes up, he jumps at the chance.





	1. Roasted Vegetables and Houmous

**Author's Note:**

> As always, this is set in England; so even though they all have Japanese names, they don't use honorifics, I use English colloquialisms (biscuits are like cookies, they wear trousers not pants, chips not fries, and so on) and they have sterling as currency.

 

This small organic food shop, sitting between a budget hotel and a Chinese supermarket, cannot be the right place. The feeling of panic rose in his stomach as he realised he must have chosen the wrong cafe from the choices on the search engine. Glancing upwards at the sign, he checked the name against the one on the piece of paper in his hand, and although they matched, he was still unsure. Frowning, he crossed the road to get a closer look at “Koushi's”.

The whole of the front was glass, and through it Akaashi could only see shelves of items for sale. It looked more like a supermarket than anything else. There was a pile of wooden crates just inside the doorway, filled with fruits and vegetables, just next to a table covered in jars of what looked like chutneys. He moved closer and peered in further, and there, finally, he spotted a delicatessen counter, and with a sinking heart he realised that yes, this was most likely the place that was expecting him for an interview.

He'd been expecting something much grander from what he'd read and seen online. This place had won awards locally for its food, all organic and produced as locally as possible, and he'd even seen pictures of celebrities buying their food there. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a corner shop. He tugged uncomfortably at his tie, regretting wasting time on all the research he'd done the night before.

Taking in a deep breath, he walked inside, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of lavender from a large bush just inside the door.

'Hello!' A bright voice came from the direction of the delicatessen. He looked over to see a man in a pale grey shirt and cerise waist apron, smiling dazzlingly at him.

'Oh yes, hello there. I'm Akaashi Keiji, I think I have an interview here? At 3 o'clock.'

The man came from behind the counter, walked over and shook his hand, talking the whole time. 'Oh hello! I'm Sugawara Koushi, I'm the owner here, well, obviously you knew that from the name, right? Everyone calls me Suga though. Did you find us ok? Akaashi, was it? Can I get you a coffee or anything? Bokuto! Come and cover the shop for me! My appointment is here.'

The assault of questions and the enthusiasm of the man still shaking his hand was a bit overwhelming, and he wasn't sure what to answer first. 'Yes, Akaashi, that's me.'

Suga clapped his hands together. 'Excellent! Let me show you around while we wait for Bokuto to stop doing whatever it is he's doing that he probably shouldn't be... So this area is the shop, obviously, the cafe is at the back.'

The building was surprisingly longer than it had looked from the outside, and after rows and rows of shelves selling various cereals, bagged dried fruit and nuts, cartons of nut milks, Akaashi was surprised to see the shop open out into a bigger square, lined on three sides with glass display cabinets, with a simple arrangement of four tables with chairs in the central area.

Behind the cabinets, a door flung open, and a tall man with spiked white and black hair ran out. He had a similar pink apron on to Suga, but on his top half he wore a black sleeveless t-shirt, displaying large, well developed muscles.

'Sorry, Suga! I was just doing a stock check and got sidetracked reading the barbecue sauce ingredients. Man, how can that stuff even become so delicious! Although that's probably the meat. Hey, who's this?'

By this time, Akaashi was really beginning to worry about getting the job. No one ever seemed to shut up, and he was already feeling irritable and tired. He wasn't sure he'd fit in somewhere with people who seemed to be so high maintenance.

'Bokuto, please calm down a little, have you been drinking guarana again? Go onto the main counter. I'll take over here.' Bokuto saluted, and ran off back towards the front of the shop.

Suga turned to Akaashi, apologetically, saying, 'Bokuto is harmless, he just has a lot of energy. He started working here after high school because he bought all his protein powder here.' He motioned towards a table. 'I'll get you a coffee, just sit yourself down and centre yourself. It's all a bit full on, isn't it? Coffee, tea? I can do a cappuccino, if I remember how to use this bloody thing...'

'Thank you. Just plain black coffee would be fine.' Suga smiled again, and went off to fight with the coffee maker.

There was something kind about the owner, and Akaashi started to feel more at ease. His irritability usually went unnoticed by most due to his inexpressive face, yet Suga had immediately sensed discomfort and given him some space. He hummed as he filled the coffee machine with ground beans, then jumped slightly at the unexpected steam escaping from a nozzle – it was clear he had turned the wrong dial or something, he definitely wasn't used to the machine. Once there were two coffees on the tray, he came and sat opposite Akaashi and explained.

'Ushijima who usually runs the cafe has been called up to play for Japan, so we've been short staffed. Bokuto and I don't usually do anything back here, and during the week we only really need one person, we're not that busy. Hinata works weekends, he's been helping out until we find someone to take over permanently.' He sighed. 'I'm happy for Ushijima obviously, it was just such short notice 'cause he was supposed to be a reserve, but then someone was injured.'

Akaashi wondered what sport it was that Ushijima played, and wondered if it would be weird to ask. His thought was interrupted by Suga waving a hand in front of him.

'Sorry, I'm going on again, you've gone glassy eyed,' he said, with genuine concern. 'It's one of my worse habits, I'm afraid.'

'Not at all, I was just wondering what sport he played.'

Suga laughed. 'Volleyball. Bokuto does too, they're on the local team together, he recommended Ushijima for the job in the first place. Obviously Ushijima is at a higher standard, but Bokuto is pretty good as well.'

'It really sounds like a family here. Everyone knows each other?'

Suga nodded. 'Yeah, we're not a big company, but we're all very close. Anyway! We should really talk about you, Akaashi. Tell me a bit about yourself.'

'Well, I just finished culinary school, and am looking to get my first real job in my chosen field. I've worked in cafes and restaurants while I was studying, just at the weekend, but nothing in a position of authority. When I saw this, I liked that it was a small place, but I'd be in charge.'

'Ok, I read most of that already on your application. What about _you_?'

'I'm not sure what you mean,' Akaashi said, taking a sip of coffee.

'Well, what hobbies do you have? Do you play any sports?'

'I spend most of my time researching new ingredients and recipes, and then I'm usually working weekends. In the holidays, I travel to other places, to shop at markets and try famous restaurants.'

'Ah, so you have a social life in that way then?'

'Oh, no, I go alone. That way I can eat at my own speed, take notes, that kind of thing.'

Suga tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows. 'So you're that committed to being a chef?'

'Absolutely, it's all I've ever wanted. My mother is Italian, I grew up around lots of different types of food.'

'Well then, I must ask; what do you hope for the future?'

'I'd like to own a small restaurant of my own, eventually. I have a long way to go before that though, so running a cafe such as this would be great practice and experience. I realise this might not sound good for my chances of getting the job, it sounds like I won't be staying. Which, to be frank, I wouldn't want to work here forever. But for now, it would be the right place.'

Suga was still looking at him with his brow creased. Akaashi realised he might have said too much, been too honest about his intentions. His Dad was always telling him he got his blunt way of talking from his Mother, as well as her dark hair. Just as he was preparing for Suga to let him down gently, his face split into that bright smile again.

'Well, that's a relief, because I was wondering how I was going to explain that it wasn't a permanent job! It was hard advertising the position, because eventually I'd like to be able to offer Ushijima his job back, but none of us have any idea how long he'll be playing for Japan. If you're ok with the job not being for life, I think this could work perfectly.'

'As long as you gave me plenty of notice for when he comes back, that would be fine.'

'That sounds like you're accepting the job already?' Suga looked hopeful, and there was something about him that convinced Akaashi he was doing the right thing.

'I am indeed.'

'Fantastic! Do you want to start tomorrow? If I have to make another coffee on that machine, I might just end up killing a man.'

–

By 2 o'clock the next day, Akaashi was positive he'd been right to say yes. Suga had been just as kind and patient when explaining the layout of the kitchen, and Bokuto was definitely less lively in the morning, presumably as he hadn't already started on the energy drinks. Everything was more laid back than the day before, and the flow of customers was steady, but not overwhelming.

'Weekdays are usually fairly quiet, we hardly ever have to serve tables, it's almost all takeaway food.'

Akaashi had been pleasantly surprised by the array of options already on sale. The hot food counter was a big hit, with a vegetarian chilli selling out immediately, and the jacket potatoes not far behind. Many of the customers were regulars, knowing exactly what they wanted, and all of them seemed to be polite and patient with Akaashi. He knew this was mostly down to the presence of Suga shadowing him, charming the people waiting for their food as it took longer than usual. He had a plate with small pieces of home baked flapjack on it, which he would wave in front of anyone who seemed to be getting restless, imploring them to try a new recipe he was experimenting with.

Akaashi methodically worked through orders, no extra brain capacity to ask anything more than, 'What can I get you?' Learning on the job could be tough, but he'd done this long enough to know it would get easier, and working with organic, local produce really was a treat. Most places he'd worked before had tubs of ready grated cheese, and packs of reformed ham slices; at Koushi's he had grated his own cheese from a large wheel produced by a dairy only 4 miles away, and had carved his own ham slices from a joint that had been slow cooked overnight.

Now the lunch rush was over, Suga had suggested he get something to eat himself before they both started clearing everything up and doing some prep for the next day. He offered to make something for them both while Suga went to check on Bokuto, and then looked at the fresh ingredients in the salad bar, working out what would be no good for the next day. In the end, he simply piled some leftover roasted peppers and red onions into a pitta bread with a big dollop of houmous and a drizzle of olive oil.

He heard a cough behind him, and turned to see a dark haired man in a blue suit shuffling from foot to foot. He carried a briefcase, holding it in front of him with both hands on the handle. He wondered how long he'd even been there, he'd been making this plate of food for a good five minutes.

'Oh hey. What can I get you?' he asked, wiping his hands down his apron front.

'Just a tuna sandwich please. On brown bread if you have it.'

'Sorry, we're out of brown. There's white or seeded.'

The customer frowned, looking suspiciously at Akaashi. 'There's none in the back?'

'No, it's sold out. It's nearly half past two.'

'I suppose it'll have to be white then.'

'Any salad?' he asked, picking a white bread roll out of the basket and slicing it in two.

'No, and no butter either, just the tuna.'

'You just want bread and tuna. Nothing else.'

'Yes.'

'Well, I'm not sure what to charge for that.'

'It's always £2.40.' He sounded snippy, and looked at his watch.

'Yes, but that's for tuna salad. It just seems wrong charging you that much.'

'I don't know anything about that, I just always pay £2.40. Can you get on with it please? I'm going to be late back to work.'

Akaashi looked at him, feeling irritable, but he didn't want to start anything on his first day. Instead, he simply made the plain sandwich, wrote '2.40' on the white bag he put it in, and then passed it across the counter.

'Thank you,' the man said, walking away.

He watched him walk stiffly to the main counter, and pass across some coins. He then seemed to ask Bokuto something, who then turned and called for Suga. His boss went and talked to the customer, who motioned towards the cafe area as he spoke. Suga then spoke back, putting a hand on the shoulder of the man in the suit; he reeled backwards a little, until Bokuto looked shocked, and opened the till again, giving him back the coins. The customer walked away, and Bokuto just shook his head.

Suga walked back towards the cafe, and Akaashi had a sick feeling in his chest as he said, 'Akaashi, can I just have a quick word?'

'I wasn't rude to him...' he started saying.

Suga put his hands up to stop him speaking, reassuring him with, 'You're not in trouble, don't worry!'

'Well, what was he saying about me? Did you give him a refund?'

'I did, but not because he complained or anything. He was just asking where Ushijima was, and I was explaining you were new here. He told me to apologise to you, he was just having a bad day.'

'Oh.' He hadn't looked that apologetic, but then again, he didn't seem angry either.

'He _was_ in later than he usually is, come to think of it. I bet we were out of brown bread, weren't we?'

Akaashi nodded saying, 'Is he a regular then?'

'Yeah, that's Ennoshita, he comes in every Tuesday.' 


	2. Brunch Special

 

The first week working at Koushi's seemed to have gone by in a flash. He was used to where everything was, and it really wasn't so difficult to keep up with the flow of customers. Almost all the customers wanted was something to takeaway, and the only thing he had to prepare to order was the sandwiches. People helped themselves from the large salad bar, which only required him to weigh and price what they chose, and the flapjack was ready made and packaged.

Suga had explained that for his first week, they'd just sell the flapjack which he'd made on the first day of training, but that once he was in the swing of things, he expected him to start baking cakes every afternoon ready for the next day. Akaashi was more than happy to do this, having worked at a bakery in a suburb of the city, and the array of dried fruits, nuts and other ingredients was already inspiring him.

He was thinking about how to take advantage of the fresh delivery of medjool dates, when Suga came walking through from the staff room, tying the string of his apron around his waist. 'Good weekend, Akaashi?'

'Not bad,' he replied, not breaking off from cutting onions, 'I tried that new restaurant in town for Sunday brunch.'

'Food good?'

'Yeah, I had bubble and squeak.' He wiped his hands on his apron, and slipped his phone from his pocket. He flicked through the photos, until he found what he was looking for, and held it up for Suga to see. 'They used a fried duck egg, and the smoked sausage was wild boar.'

'It's tiny! No wonder you're so scrawny,' said Bokuto, popping up behind them at the mention of sausage.

'It's fine dining, not a barbecue,' he said, getting a slap on the back.

Suga nodded in approval, and Akaashi flicked through to the next photo. It showed the restaurant itself; thick mahogany tabletops, plants in macrame hangers, small candles in mason jars, and every table fit to bursting with people enjoying food.

'Is it always that busy?'

'It was my first time, but I've read good reviews. I was thinking of doing some different breakfast things here in future, if that would be ok?'

The owner's smile grew wider, as he resumed nodding. 'This is what I was hoping for from you. Shake us up a bit. People don't just want bacon sandwiches.'

'Speak for yourself!' Bokuto interrupted, 'That's not going to fill up an athlete like me.' He stuck his thumb towards his chest, and then flexed his biceps.

Suga tutted and rolled his eyes. 'Ok, ok, use those muscles to get sweeping the front of the shop before the lunch rush.'

Akaashi put his phone back in his pocket, and started washing the potatoes for baking. It seemed as if Suga would be ok with what he had in mind, so he popped in extra potatoes, hoping he'd have some leftover at the end of the day.

–

The next day, Bokuto got to work to find Akaashi writing on the chalkboard outside.

'Brunch special? What's that?'

'I'll show you, come on.'

Bokuto followed him to the back of the shop, and sitting at one of the tables was Suga eating a plate of food.

'Bokuto look! Akaashi made us breakfast!'

Akaashi pointed at the empty chair opposite, and Bokuto dutifully sat down. He then went over to the warmer, and picked up a plate that looked like the one Suga was eating from, and set it down in front of his colleague.

Worrying that he would make a mess of things, or worse still, that Suga would think he was overstepping his boundaries, Akaashi had put his plan into action before leaving the day before. He'd had five potatoes left after lunch, so he'd carefully scooped the cooked flesh from the skins, and mashed it into a bowl with some cooked cabbage, spring onions, and seasoning, and then shaped them into small patties to rest overnight. Then that morning as soon as he arrived, he'd fried off two patties, as well as two circles of black pudding, and plated everything up, topped with perfectly poached eggs.

'It's a bubble and squeak patty,' he had explained, after showing his boss, 'I hope you don't mind, but I had leftover potatoes, and our conversation inspired me to try this.'

'Why would I mind? This looks amazing!' Suga's smile was wide and warm, and reminded Akaashi of what he was already enjoying about the job.

'I thought it was a shame to have these tables here, and no one ever sitting at them, they just take a sandwich and leave. A full restaurant looks successful, like the food will be delicious. So I wanted to make something people have to sit down to eat.' He'd been thinking about it since his brunch at the weekend, and thinking the potential of these tables was being underused.

'I'm torn between wanting to tell you how much I appreciate your inventiveness, and just digging into what looks like the best poached egg I've ever seen.'

Akaashi's mouth twitched at the corners as he said, 'Please eat.'

–

A lot of people asked after the brunch special, but either didn't have time to sit and eat, or just didn't want to hang around, and by 12.30, he hadn't sold one cover. He could see this was going to be a harder sell than he originally thought, people had lunchtime habits that wouldn't be easily changed. Akaashi was determined to not give up; he would just keep trying new dishes until he hit on the combination that would make it worth someone's precious time on a working day. He tried to remember any comments he was given, 'I don't like black pudding' being the most common, and felt relieved that he'd only made six patties and not more.

'Don't mind!' Suga had said when he'd expressed concern at wasting food, 'A bit of leftover potato and cabbage won't bankrupt us. They'll be ok tomorrow still, we can always eat them ourselves.'

He glanced up at the clock, and seeing it was just 1 o'clock, he moved some potatoes from the oven into the warmer. As lunch hours seemed to start at either twelve or one, he'd noticed a spike in customers just after those times, so he tried to get his area prepared to meet the rush. Sure enough, five people all walked in at once, heading straight for the back of the shop.

Two women in smart skirts and blouses were first to the counter, and started filling up cardboard cartons with salad. Akaashi talked to the next in line, quickly dishing up jacket potatoes for two younger men polo shirts with a logo for an entertainment shop on the chest, as they joked around and pushed each other good naturedly. Once they'd gone, the women had finished choosing their salad boxes, and he weighed and priced them up.

With all the women's bickering (over who was going to pay) and the men's laughter, he hadn't noticed who the fifth in line was. Now the others had gone, he turned to see the customer from last Tuesday, waiting patiently. He was wearing a similar dark suit, but his tie was a jewel green today, and his dark hair was less dishevelled, smoothed over neatly to one side.

'Sorry to keep you waiting, how can I help?'

'Tuna on brown, please.'

Akaashi went and got the brown bread roll he'd put to one side that morning; it was Tuesday, and hadn't Suga said this man came every Tuesday? He didn't want to run out of brown bread again and upset a regular customer.

'No butter or salad, right?'

The other man nodded, keeping eye contact with him. Akaashi cut open the roll, and started filling it with tuna. 'Suga said your name is Ennoshita?'

He nodded again, and picked up a napkin from the top of the counter. 'How was your first week?'

'It was busy and confusing, but I enjoyed it.' He bagged up the sandwich, wrote '2.40' on it without even checking the board, and handed it across to Ennoshita.

'I... wanted to apologise for last week,' he stammered, taking the sandwich, 'I was having a really bad day, I was working later than usual, so when you were out of brown bread, because I was late coming in... well, it threw me. Silly really.'

Akaashi shook his head, saying, 'Not at all, everyone has a favourite.'

'I'm not sure why Suga gave me my money back, but somehow getting a kind gesture on a day you really need one feels good.'

'I'm enjoying working for him so far, he seems a nice bloke.'

'He is, but you don't want to mess with him. I remember being here one day when he had a shoplifter,' he said, smiling for the first time. The change in the line of his mouth was only slight, but his eyes had gained a sparkle, and Akaashi found it infectious.

'What happened?' he asked, starting to smile himself.

'He ran after him, and leapt at his ankles, tackling him to the floor. He may look like an angel, but he can be quite a brute.'

'I'll try and stay on his right side then,' he said, winking.

Ennoshita smiled back at him, and lifted up the sandwich. 'Thanks again, and hope your second week goes well!'

'See you next week, I'll save you a brown roll again.'

He stopped and looked back, with a slightly puzzled expression, before recovering the smile, and waving again as he walked to the counter to pay.

Akaashi watched him walk away, and started scribbling down ideas for tuna sandwiches.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Colour illustrations of the two of them in this chapter


	3. Tuna Melt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your author was probably hungry, as there's a lot of food talk.

Akaashi had carried on trying 'eat in' breakfasts for the rest of the week, with about as much success as the first day. On Wednesday he tried the bubble and squeak again, this time changing the black pudding for a regular pork sausage, but still with no takers. He tried a different tack on Thursday, offering a simple omelette, made fresh to order with cheese or ham. He was a little relieved no one ordered it, because once the lunchtime rush started, he realised cooking to order was a ridiculous challenge to set himself.

The most successful recipe so far was definitely Friday's 'overnight oats'; he prepared little pots of porridge oats in hazelnut milk to soak overnight, and then added slivers of almonds, puréed blueberries and agave syrup in the morning. They sold out before eleven, but disappointingly no one had eaten at the tables, Still, he thought he would probably carry on making them for takeaway, as their appeal was wide due to being both gluten free and vegan.

Suga had taken him aside and congratulated him on his first two weeks, and asked if he'd be comfortable making some cake starting after the weekend. He also gave him his own key so he could get in as early as he wanted, and was delighted when Akaashi asked if he could use it to go in on Sunday when they were closed to get ahead of the baking.

'I'm so happy you're putting everything into the job, but be sure to leave earlier on the Monday to make up for it,' Suga said, 'I don't want you to overdo it.'

'It's fine, I really want to get a few plain sponges made and frozen, then I only have to decorate them. Spending a day doing that will give me spare time later in the month.'

'I think our regular customers will appreciate having something that isn't just flapjack to be honest. Ushijima used to make a delicious cotton cake, so we've really been missing decent desert these last few weeks.' He looked down at his chubby stomach, smiling slightly, and said, 'Probably not a bad thing for some of us.'

Akaashi made a mental note to add cotton cake to the list of baking for Sunday, and made his way home to start rifling through his collection of recipes to find a new recipe which might tempt someone to sit at one of the tables

–

Despite not speaking to another soul all weekend, he'd enjoyed it immensely. There was nothing more relaxing than flipping through the folders of recipes he'd saved over the years; some were handwritten by mentors, family and friends, some were ripped from magazines with his own annotations, some were photocopies, or just scraps of napkins where he'd scribbled something during a meal. It was his equivalent of a photo album, reminiscing about certain meals bringing a smirk to his lips, certain handwriting bringing tears to his eyes.

As he perched on a stool in his kitchen, drinking espresso and working through them, he jotted things in a small, leather bound notebook. He had plenty of ideas, but nothing was standing out. At least he managed to find the cotton cake recipe his Grandmother had given him, and seeing how mildly challenging it was, was excited to try making one.

He turned back a page, and found the list of tuna sandwich ideas he'd jotted down earlier in the week. He tapped his pencil at the fourth on the list, and finally made his decision.

Sunday was spent working through a mountain of baking. It wasn't difficult, just tiring, and by the time he'd finished, he was covered in flour, and his arms ached from beating the mixture. He had a slew of podcasts he hadn't had time to listen to, so he worked through those, finally catching up on what was going on in Night Vale.

While waiting for the cakes to cool enough to freeze, he turned to decorating the cotton cake. He'd made two, and tasted the one which had come out worst to check the texture. It was light and fluffy, the water bath he had baked it in had done the job beautifully, and the texture was perfect, not quite a sponge cake, and not quite a cheesecake, but somewhere in-between. The cream cheese had given it a tartness, meaning he could use sugar to decorate the top without making the whole thing too sweet. He placed stencils over the brown top, and dusted icing sugar over, creating a pattern of swirls and dots, which not only looked pretty, but would help with cutting it into even slices.

By the evening, he was exhausted, but incredibly fulfilled. Preparing food for people had always given him peaceful satisfaction, just watching their face break out into a smile of enjoyment, an expression of confusion as they tried to work out what a flavour was, or simply a satisfied humming as they closed their eyes. Food was such a big part of his childhood, most of which was spent with his mother in the kitchen; his favourite memories were of sitting at the only big table in the house, doing homework, or reading comics, or helping prepare vegetables for her.

He wanted to recreate this feeling at Koushi's; in his mind's eye, he could see people sitting at the tables, reading the newspaper while they ate porridge before work, taking time out for their lunch hour with friends, laughing over some shared incident from the office, parents taking a mid afternoon break before picking up their children after school. He liked watching people, working out what food they might enjoy, and even if he never found out if he was right, it was a good mental exercise. More people sitting at those tables would be good not only for Suga's profits, but also for his inventiveness in the kitchen.

–

Akaashi didn't think he had never heard a sigh as loud as the one Suga made when the first spoon of cotton cake slipped past his lips.

'Man alive, this is the best cake I've ever eaten!' he mumbled, shoveling in a second piece.

'Akaashi, how are you still single?' Bokuto asked through a mouthful of cake, 'Girls must be throwing themselves at you!'

'God, yes, with your looks and this cake, you could have any woman you wanted,' Suga said, nodding in agreement.

Akaashi scratched at the back of his head, not looking directly at either of them. It was always a gamble in what to say in these situations, but there was something about them that made him think it wouldn't be as big a deal as in some of the other places he'd worked.

'Do you think it would work on men in the same way?'

Suga was first to stop chewing, and made a simple apology for his assumption. Bokuto took a minute to work out what he meant, but then just slapped his forehead, also apologised, and carried on eating. He reassured them both it was fine, and was glad he trusted his instincts.

'So what's your hot special today?' Suga asked.

'Tuna Melt. I'm making them to order, but they're quicker than omelettes, and I've been able to prepare the filling in advance.'

'Excellent, sounds like it could be a winner then.'

–

On Monday evening, Akaashi was finally feeling things were going in the right direction. The tuna melt had gone down really well, with half of the people buying one actually sitting in to eat it. It was the first time he'd been able to watch anyone eating anything he'd cooked since working at Koushi's, and it was exhilarating. The bustle in the cafe was just what he'd been looking for, the quiet chatter and discussion of the food was bolstering his confidence, and he was selling more cake to those who were eating in, as they got a good view of the cabinets and just couldn't resist. The cotton cake wasn't only appreciated by Suga and Bokuto, and much to their disgust was sold out by the end of the day.

He spent the afternoon turning one of the sponge cakes from the freezer into a Victoria sandwich by filling it with buttercream and jam, and dusting the swirling pattern onto the top with icing sugar again. He also made another batch of the tuna mixture, and made sure there were plenty of bread rolls out of the freezer, putting a brown one aside.

–

'So what's in the tuna melt?'

Ennoshita's tie was red today, contrasting with his black shirt and suit. Akaashi had been certain having a tuna based special would encourage further conversation from this regular, and he wasn't disappointed.

'It's tuna, red onion, a bit of garlic mayonnaise, and grated mature cheddar.'

'Could I get it without onion and garlic?'

'If you don't mind a bit of a wait, I can sort that out for you.'

Ennoshita nodded, and took a seat at one of the tables, bringing out his phone, and Akaashi went and made a tuna melt without any extra flavour.

'Are you eating in today?' Akaashi shouted over as the sandwich was grilling.

He thought about it, for what seemed too long for such a simple decision, and then said that he would. His mouth had curled slightly again, and Akaashi felt a small surge of happiness; no doubt from giving someone food they enjoyed, as always.

He started fussing over the plate, before remembering Ennoshita never had salad or extras, and therefore didn't seem the type to like unnecessary additions. In the end, he just plated it up, with an after thought of a few olives in a ramekin on the side; if he didn't want them, it was easy to ignore, and wasn't touching the sandwich.

Ennoshita was still looking at his phone when he went over and placed the plate next to him, with a knife and a paper napkin. At some point he'd helped himself to a bottle of water from the cabinet, so Akaashi wrote the cost of it next to the tuna melt on the ticket, and placed it under the salt cellar.

'I added a few olives on the side, I don't know if you like them.'

'I do, very much, thank you.' he said, looking up at Akaashi, with a slight smile. There was that warm feeling again, he really did enjoy guessing what food people would like.

'I thought you might have a date or something when you asked for no garlic or onion.'

Ennoshita looked down, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. 'No such luck I'm afraid.'

'Sorry, I didn't meant to pry. Just with you having such a nice suit on today, I thought there might be a reason.'

'This? It's just a black suit.' The blush was still on his cheeks as he looked up at Akaashi through his eyelashes.

'Ah, I've only seen your blue one...' What was he doing? This weird heat was making him babble. He walked back behind the safety of the counter.

He watched as Ennoshita moved his plate into the table's centre slightly, piled one half of sandwich on top of the other at an angle, stuck a cocktail stick into one of the olives, and jabbed it through the arrangement. Finally, he moved the bowl of olives out of the way, before he snapped a picture with his phone.

'Come on,' Akaashi thought, and realised he was waiting for him to take a bite of the sandwich. It seemed he was happy with the picture, and he didn't delay trying the sandwich any longer. He took a small bite from the corner, dabbing his mouth with the corner of his napkin immediately afterwards.

It was almost impossible to tell whether he liked it or not. He made no sound, and his face looked exactly the same, even though he was chewing. Akaashi dragged his eyes away from him to carry on serving customers, and after he'd cleared the queue, he glanced over to see Ennoshita quietly eating the last bite. He wiped his hands on the napkin, before standing up and starting to walk away.

He'd never found anyone so unreadable before, and it was mildly frustrating. He watched as he walked to the counter to pay, trying to see any clues as to his feelings, but there was nothing. Then Ennoshita stopped, turned back again, and walked back towards the food counter. Akaashi tried not to show his pleasure at the change of direction, instead looking busy wiping the counter top down.

'Excuse me?' he heard, and looked up again to see Ennoshita, that slight smile still on his lips. He felt his heart skip, waiting to hear what he'd come back to say.

'Yes?' His voice was raspier than he expected.

'Where's the bill?'

He obviously hadn't seen him put it on the table, too engrossed in his phone. 'Oh, it's over there under the salt.'

'Ah thanks,' Ennoshita said, going back to the table.

'Urm... did you enjoy it?' he quickly asked, desperate to see those intense eyes turned toward him again.

'Oh, yes thanks,' he threw over his shoulder as he walked away to pay.

Akaashi's disappointment at not locking eyes with him again, was mixed in with the sinking realisation that he was absolutely screwed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I found a photo online of the owner of the food shop I based Koushi's on, so I drew Suga as him, behind the counter. Suga in this AU is chubby and about ten years older than the others

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32720123391/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started making notes about what all the food is in this chapter, but then I thought if you really want to know something you can always use google


	4. Guacamole and Crudités

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Hinata, and get to know the staff a bit better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note; They drink alcohol in this chapter. Remember, we're in England, and everyone is over 18, so it's all perfectly legal, but this is your heads up.

Working on a Saturday was totally different to a weekday, and Akaashi was starting to wonder if it might be worth requesting swapping a day. Usually on a Saturday, the cafe was run by Asahi, an old friend of Suga's from school, but at the end of Akaashi's first month, he'd been asked to fill in so he could get a day off.

Whereas during the week, the cafe was mainly frequented by local office workers picking up a sandwich, the weekend brought a whole new crowd of people in the shape of shoppers. Although there still wasn't much in the way of meals being served, it was lucky that Akaashi had gotten so far ahead with the baking; they were selling coffee and cake hand over fist. All four tables were filled with groups of friends, or mothers with babies, and the atmosphere was invigorating.

However, the most surprising thing was how much Akaashi was enjoying having a helping hand in the form of a short, orange haired teenager. At first he'd been unsure about whether he'd be irritated by this ball of energy that Suga was introducing to him as Hinata, but after seeing how much customers loved him, and how infectious his optimism was, he was definitely taken with him.

'Ah, you must try the carrot cake! It's so delicious! I've had three pieces already today, you all need a slice?' He bounded back to the counter, and plated up the last four slices of carrot cake, and gave the coffee order to Akaashi.

'Hinata, have you really sold all the carrot cake?' he asked, steaming milk for cappuccinos.

'Yep! Better get baking some more!'

'Not until tomorrow, now, I'll be sure to make an extra one this week.' He had no idea where Hinata put all the food he stuffed in his face, but he guessed most of it was burnt up by his constant bouncing around and running everywhere.

At the end of the day, Suga asked them all to stay behind for a staff meeting, and Akaashi offered to put together some snacks for them all using the food that wouldn't keep.

'That's a great idea, it'll be a good way for us to all get to know each other, maybe we should crack open a beer? Hinata's eighteen already, before you ask, he just looks about twelve.'

–

'Bokuto, we are not playing drinking games! This is just a getting to know you session.'

Akaashi had thrown together some guacamole, and prepared some crudités and melba toast using vegetables and bread that wouldn't last until Monday. They chatted about how things were going for everyone, until the mood turned into a proper Saturday night, and Bokuto was pleading for more entertainment.

'Suga, there's no better way to get to know people than playing Never Have I Ever.'

'Behave. Hinata is barely out of nappies, and I'm old enough to be your Dad, it's not a fair fight.'

Bokuto nudged him. 'Are you scared we'll get to know too much about our boss?'

'I have nothing to hide.' He sighed. 'Ok, you win. But nothing sexual.'

Bokuto groaned loudly, but Akaashi inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure getting into who had done what to whom was a good idea on the first day of meeting a teenage co-worker, and within your first month at a new workplace. Apart from anything else, he really had no interest in that kind of information about people he knew well, much less that he worked alongside.

'I'll start,' Bokuto said, cracking the caps on four bottles of pale ale. 'Never have I ever broken a bone.' No one lifted their beer. 'Wow, I only used that cause I was sure Hinata would have broken something at some point!'

'Nope! I'm not that clumsy. My turn... Never have I ever worn handcuffs.'

Akaashi couldn't believe he was first to drink, and with a question like this. Thankfully, everyone except Hinata took a swig.

'You three are badasses! You have to tell the stories now!'

Suga shook his head. 'Absolutely not. You have to respect your boss.'

Akaashi joined in refusing to spill the beans. There was no way he was going to tell them he'd worn handcuffs, but had never been arrested.

Bokuto said, a little too proudly, 'I don't mind telling you, I got arrested for starting a fight. I was a lot louder and angrier in my younger days.'

'What's changed?' Suga snorted under his breath. 'Ok I'll go next. Never have I ever got a tattoo.'

Bokuto and Akaashi both took a drink, and then looked at each other. 'Who's going first?' Bokuto asked.

'I can't show you mine!'

Bokuto whipped his shirt over his head, and showed a large tattoo of an owl across his back. The wings were spread widely, so one rested on each shoulder, and in the centre of his back, the owl's talons shot out in sharp perspective, so it looked as if it was grabbing at the viewer. The owl's eyes were completely black, and there were white rays shooting from a halo around its head. It was a stunning piece of greyscale work, and must have taken a few hours.

'Wow, that's amazing, Bokuto! I'm going to get a tattoo now I'm eighteen. It doesn't hurt does it?'

Bokuto laughed, and said, 'Of course it does! It's someone sticking a bundle of needles over and over into your flesh! How could it not hurt?'

Hinata visibly shuddered. 'We have to see yours now, Akaashi. We've seen Bokuto half naked already, it's no big deal.'

Akaashi shook his head. 'I'd really rather not.'

'Is it embarassing? Is it on your dick?'

'Bokuto!' Suga shouted. Hinata was still shuddering, this time with giggles.

'Fine! Since you're going to think that's where it is, unless I show you, then...' He lifted up his shirt at the front slightly with one hand, and then pulled down the side of his jeans at the front with the other. Nestling on his hipbone was a small triangular tattoo, which on closer inspection was a slice of pizza.

The other three all looked at him wide mouthed, and then dissolved into laughter as if they shared a set of lungs.

'I never, _ever_ , would have guessed at that!' Suga was first to (be able to) speak.

'I was drunk, on holiday, I'm half Italian. It was a recipe for disaster.'

'I love it! I want a pizza tattoo!'

'You love everything, Hinata,' Suga said fondly. 'Ok, it's your turn next, anyway, Akaashi, so you can try and get us back.'

Akaashi thought carefully, looking at the other three. Hinata was the only one who hadn't had a drink yet, and Suga was behind the other two older men, so he decided to choose something he was sure both his boss and the youngest of them had done.

'Never have I ever done karaoke,' he said, taking a punt. To his satisfaction, both of his targets took a swig.

–

After another four rounds, everyone was starting to get merry. Whilst Suga and Bokuto had known each other longer, and could coax from each other the most ridiculous stories, Akaashi's skill at guessing what people like to eat seemed to extend to being able to guess what mildly embarrassing things they might have done. They were all on their third bottle of (strong) organic ale, and voices were getting louder and more slurred.

'Round six!' Bokuto shouted, rubbing his hands together. He caught Suga's eye, and said, 'Never have I ever had a crush on one of the customers.'

'You bastard,' Suga swore, taking a swig. 'I've worked here the longest, of course I have! What else am I meant to do when it's quiet in the shop if it's not fantasising about customers?'

'Oh, you're not the only one!' He pointed at Akaashi as he spotted him lowering the bottle from his mouth. 'He's only been here a month!'

'My turn!' Hinata was also excitedly shouting, 'I'm not sure what to ask though.' Suga leant over and whispered into his ear. Hinata turned and looked confused.

'Just say it!'

'Ok, urm, never have I ever had a crush on someone who wears a blue suit.'

Akaashi snapped his face up to look at Suga, who was smirking over the top of his beer. 'What's up? Have you run out of beer? Cause surely you need to be taking a swig...'

Bokuto grinned and stared between the two of them, realising he was missing a piece of important information, but knowing that whatever it was, it was something spicy.

'I don't know what you mean,' Akaashi said, his face giving nothing away.

'If you don't take a drink, and we can prove you've done something, you have to do the forfeit,' Hinata told him, 'That's how it works, isn't it Bokuto?'

'Yes! What will you make him do, Hinata? There's a jar of fat in the fridge, we could make him eat that?'

'Ok, ok,' Akaashi said, taking a swig, 'You win. Happy?'

'Very,' said Suga, still with a shit eating grin on his face, 'Now it's my turn. Never have I ever... ' He paused before dealing the final blow, 'Had a crush on someone called Ennoshita.'

With this sentence, Bokuto had finally caught up, and was saying 'Aaaah, of course,' to himself, while Hinata was still looking bewildered.

Akaashi however, was blushing and looking down at his hands. He'd seen Ennoshita two more times since the 'tuna melt' day as he was coming to think of it, and the realisation that he had on that day hadn't dissipated. If anything, he was even more sure of his feelings.

He absolutely had a crush on Ennoshita. A massive, ridiculous, pointless crush.

Both times he'd seen him come into the shop, his breath had got caught in his throat. Just this last week, he'd been so excited to see him on Tuesday, that his sleep the night before was completely disturbed. He was proud of the fact he'd found something that Ennoshita enjoyed eating, which also made him sit in and eat. They hadn't talked much, just small talk about food he did or didn't like, hidden under the guise of customer research.

But every time he caused that minuscule lift at the corners of his mouth, Akaashi wanted to drag him into the stock room, slam him against the refrigerator, and see if he could coax another expression from him with something other than a tuna sandwich.

The bigger shock was that this crush was obvious to other people as well. He didn't realise any of their interactions had been studied by anyone else, but clearly Suga had seen something in the way he looked at Ennoshita, and that meant Ennoshita could have seen it too. He was mortified.

'Do we need to give him a forfeit?' He was brought out of his thoughts by Hinata bouncing in his chair, and looking excitedly at Bokuto.

'I think we might have to, if he doesn't drink soon, eh Suga?'

'Ok, shut up, I'm drinking.' Akaashi finished his beer, and slammed the empty bottle on the table.

Hinata and Bokuto cheered, but Suga wasn't smirking any more. 'Hey, you two, shut up a minute! Akaashi. I'm sorry, I didn't realise... I was just twatting around.'

Bokuto's face had also fallen when he saw how miserable Akaashi looked, and he tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. 'Yeah, sorry, pal. I wasn't making fun of you. He's a good looking dude, I wouldn't blame you!'

Hinata still looked as confused as ever. 'Who's Ennoshita?'

Bokuto pulled him up by the arm, and suggested they both go and get some more snacks from the kitchen. Suga smiled his thanks, as Hinata protested saying there was plenty of food still left to eat and had to be forcibly dragged away from the table.

'I really am sorry, Akaashi.'

'It's ok. I just didn't realise I'd been so obvious.'

'You weren't _that_ obvious. Well, maybe a little. What I mean is, I'm sure he doesn't realise.'

Akaashi sighed. 'But if you noticed, surely he has?'

'The thing is,' Suga said gently, touching his arm, 'Straight men hardly ever notice when we're attracted to them.'

Akaashi looked up, catching the sadness in Suga's eyes. 'You too?'

Suga wasn't sure if he was asking if he was also gay, or if he'd also had a crush on a customer, so he just decided to answer both questions. 'I had a crush on a male customer who used to come in, about five years ago. He was tall, dark, wore a suit, very much like Ennoshita. One day, after flirting with him every time he came in, I decided to ask him out for a date. At first, he thought I just meant a friendly drink, but I didn't want to be misunderstood, so I laid it out for him. You can probably guess what happened.'

'No date, huh?'

Suga shook his head. 'No, and he never came back in again. I took it fairly hard. I thought he'd been flirting back, but I don't think he even knew I was flirting in the first place.'

'You think I should give up on him before I get hurt?'

'I don't know. I really don't. I mean, he might be gay? I've never got that vibe off him in all the time he's been coming in.'

'How long has he been coming here?'

'I think maybe, two years? He doesn't give much away, he just comes in every week and buys the same sandwich, and goes again.'

'Not for the last three weeks,' Akaashi said, smiling a little and taking a swig from Bokuto's abandoned bottle.

Suga shrugged. 'Maybe there's hope there? I'm just too old, and too cynical after years of not finding the right person.'

'I hope he's out there somewhere,' said Akaashi, clinking the bottle against Suga's.

'And I hope it turns out that Ennoshita is into men.' He turned and smiled. 'Hey! I know a way you can get clues! No, don't look like that, it's not illegal or anything. He has Instagram.'

Suga got his phone out and scrolled through his feed. He found the picture, and passed it over to him. It was the photo of the first tuna melt, with the olive poking out of the top. He clicked on the username, so he could see the rest of the feed. It was standard Instagram fare, to be honest, with plates of food, views of his feet, the sky, his shelves, but the photos were nicely framed and edited with non standard filters.

'How did you find this?'

'He tagged the shop account in that photo of the sandwich. I just hadn't thought much of it until now.'

'How can you be sure it's him? There aren't any pictures of him on his feed?'

'There's a profile picture, though. That's definitely him. Plus he's used his first name in his profile.'

Akaashi looked more closely at the profile. The small, round picture was difficult to see, but it was immediately recognisable as him, his pale skin in sharp relief against the sweep of his dark fringe. Beneath the username were only a few words, but they told him more about Ennoshita than talking to him ever had.

'Chikara, 24, Leeds. Aspiring film maker with chronic resting bitch face.'

He made a quick note of the username, RunnerUp, in his notebook, and went back to the photos, searching for anything which could give him a foothold. He said his first name aloud for the first time, Chikara, and wondered why he chose that username.

Bokuto put his head around the door, and quietly asked, 'Are we ok?'

Suga looked at Akaashi, who nodded and motioned for them both to come back. 'You'd better bring in some more beer, I finished yours off.'

'Not to worry, I found the whiskey, I thought you might need a proper drink after that.'

'Thanks, I won't turn that down.' Suga grabbed four glasses, and poured everyone a measure, with slightly less in the glass he passed to Hinata as he walked past.

'Hey, who's that?' he said, pointing at the picture of Ennoshita on the phone where Akaashi had come to rest again.

'That, my friend, is the famous Ennoshita,' said Bokuto.

'We're trying to help Akaashi learn something about him.'

'Oh, I know that guy. He works in the bank.' The other three all stared at him dumbstruck, as he drained his whiskey glass. 'What?'

Suga had his smirk back as he turned and said, 'I think you're going to be running an errand for me on Monday, Akaashi.'

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------- 

This chapter, have a quick sketch of Bokuto. He's pretty muscular now he's in his twenties.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32112046864/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto's tattoo is [this one](http://www.cuded.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/27-Owl-tattoo-on-back1.jpg) \- I just changed the eye colour. Akaashi's is more like [this ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b7/ff/6e/b7ff6e8da94879d6427a061b64f7c76d.jpg)


	5. Iced Cookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herein begins the angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note; this chapter went a bit darker than I originally intended. Akaashi is experiencing some anxiety in this chapter, mainly due to his hangover, but there's some body dysmorphia stuff as well.

The light coming through the window was relentless, even through his eyelids. Akaashi blearily opened them, and immediately regretted it.

He wasn't a big drinker usually, but apparently he had been very upset, and Bokuto very persuasive. He remembered starting on the whiskey after finding Ennoshita's Instagram, but not much else; he thought maybe Hinata and Suga had demonstrated their singing skill, and Bokuto had proved he could walk on his hands, even when trashed.

He tried opening his eyes again, and reached for his phone. It was already eleven, and he still had to go into the shop and do some baking. He was cursing Hinata's fine sales technique as now he was going to have to bake cake when the thought of food in any sense was repulsive.

He noticed he had a message, and opened the app to find a message from Suga written at two in the morning.

 **Suga >> **if you're waking up thinking you need to go to the shop and bake, don't worry, we checked and there's enough in the freezer. Go back to sleep.

He smiled at his phone, and typed out a reply.

 **Akaashi > **Morning, sorry, I don't remember checking. Are you sure we have enough?

 **Suga >> **Morning, sunshine. Yeah we have enough for tomorrow, you can do some baking in the afternoon, just get over your hangover.

 **Akaashi >** Was I really bad?

 **Suga >>** Well, you drank most of the whiskey, and cried quite a lot.

 **Akaashi >** I'm so embarrassed. I'm an emotional drunk.

 **Suga >>** It's fine, it was fun to have all the staff together. It was good for bonding.

 **Akaashi >** I'll come in early tomorrow to double check everything.

 **Suga >>** Go and get some rest, try not to beat yourself up all day.

 **Akaashi >** Thanks.

He couldn't work out if the nausea in his stomach was caused by humiliation or the hangover, and he rubbed his temples trying to stop the headache building. He needed ice cold water, but didn't think his shaky legs would carry him to his kitchen.

He picked up his phone again, opened up Instagram, and was confused to see he had some notifications. With apprehension, he clicked on the heart icon, and saw a slew of people had liked a photo he'd posted the night before.

It was a photo of him pulling aside his clothing and displaying his pizza tattoo. The tattoo he usually refused to show anyone. On the social media stream he worked very hard to keep professional, with just photos of food he'd cooked or eaten, so he could use it as an addition to his job applications. Luckily, his face wasn't visible, he tried to keep his feed as anonymous as possible, but it already had over a hundred likes.

Amongst the notifications, he spotted something; apparently he'd started following someone last night, and they'd returned the favour, along with liking his most recent photograph.

' **RunnerUp** started following you'

Shit.

–

The rest of Sunday was spent in a blanket cocoon on his bed, hating himself. Deleting the photograph from Instagram was easy, getting rid of the weight in his chest would be more difficult.

This feeling was why he didn't drink very much; he hated the sense of losing control, and exposing himself, not just physically in either sense. He was careful in what he presented to the world and what he shared with people, but when he had alcohol, he always ended up sabotaging himself  

The coffee he'd managed to make was almost cold, but he drank it anyway, knowing the heaps of sugar he'd added would help him get over at least the physical aspects of this hangover. Emotionally, he was a mess, but caffeine and glucose would drag him though the day.

Although he slept on and off all day, he still got plenty of sleep overnight, and felt pretty much back to himself on Monday when the alarm went off at five. He would shake off any remaining cobwebs of hangover on his way to work, and Saturday night would be completely behind him.

Once he'd had time to mull things over, things weren't really as bad as they'd seemed. The offending photo was gone, and although a lot of people had seen it, they wouldn't remember it; no one ever really remembered anything online unless they saw it more than once, and it had only been online for about ten hours during the night. Yes, he'd followed Ennoshita's account without meaning to, but his sparse profile meant he would have no idea who he was, other than a faceless food blogger. There was no real lasting harm done.

He unlocked the back door, and was a bit disturbed to see disarray in the kitchen. Suga told him they'd checked the freezer for stock, but it looked like they might have attempted to make a dessert. He caught sight of something on the floor, and found a discarded tube of pink piping icing, the kind used for writing things on cakes.

He tried to chase the hint of a memory flitting around, and had a vague image of Hinata drawing something, but it was already gone. It would come to him during the day, he was sure. Turning the lights on, he saw there wasn't too much to clean up, so he got onto it, and started getting things together for a carrot cake.

Suga was first to arrive, about half an hour later as he was still grating carrots. They greeted each other, and Suga tied on his usual apron.

'How are you feeling today?' he asked, as he fired up the coffee machine.

'Well, I'm embarrassed still, but I'm better than yesterday, thanks.'

'Do you remember what I asked you to do today?'

Akaashi stopped grating, and turned to his boss. 'No, I'm so sorry, I don't, remind me, and I'll get onto it right now.'

Suga smiled and said, 'Don't worry, it's nothing important.' He poured them both a cup of black coffee, and handed one over. 'We all just decided we would need some change today, and you could go and get some from the bank.'

Akaashi narrowed his eyes. 'We've never needed change before.'

Suga took a drink of coffee, saying, 'There's always a first time.'

'Don't think I don't know what this is about. Ennoshita works in the bank. You're meddling.'

'Ah, I think you'll find it was actually all your idea, not mine.'

He picked up a brown paper bag, printed with the shop's logo, and handed it over to Akaashi.

'What's this?'

'Wow, you really don't remember anything do you? Well, when we went through the freezer to check how much cake we had, you spotted a roll of cookie dough, and we decided to bake them.'

'We baked cookies? On Saturday night?' Akaashi was mortified; being that drunk and using an oven was a terrible idea. Suga was merely laughing and nodding.

'We did, yep. Bokuto is surprisingly good at handling his drinks, probably all the muscle. He refused to let us slice them, we had to pull off bits of dough and shape them ourselves.'

That was one thing at least, no one had been using a knife.

'So we baked cookies, and they're in here?' he asked, indicating the bag.

'Well, we didn't just bake them, we decided to decorate them when they cooled down.' That explained the piping icing. 'And then you had an amazing idea, and we all agreed.'

'What did I do?'

'I think you should look in the bag.'

Akaashi opened it and found one large, round cookie. It was misshapen, and the size of his palm. Written sloppily across the middle, and in bright pink capital letters, were two simple words.

CALL ME.

'What exactly was I planning to do with this?'

'Well... the phone number is printed on the bag, so you ... This sounded like a much better plan on Saturday night come to think of it. You were going to give it to Ennoshita.'

'No, absolutely not. There's no way I'm doing that!'

'No one's going to make you do it. We all just thought it was a cute idea.'

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. 'Do I seem like the kind of person who would do something cute?'

'You did on Saturday.' He opened his phone and showed him a photo. It was Akaashi, holding the cookie up next to his face in one hand, pointing at it with the other one. His smile was so wide, he barely recognised himself. Suga flicked the photo to the left, and there was another one; this time he was flanked by Bokuto and Hinata, also holding up their cookies. 'See? You were enjoying yourself.'

'Oh God, please delete those!'

'No! It's cute. I won't show anyone, I promise.' He smiled sweetly at him, flicking to the next photo of Akaashi and Suga together. 'I was a mess as well, look.'

'I really don't like it, Suga, please.' He was starting to feel more queasy with each new image of himself, and put his hand out to steady himself as he stumbled a bit.

'Hey, sorry, Akaashi. Quick, sit down.' He steered him into the main shop, and sat him at one of the tables, before running back into the kitchen to retrieve the coffee.

He took a sip, with eyes closed, and tried to stop himself shaking. Suga's eyebrows were crumpled in concern, and he hovered over Akaashi, asking if he could help in any way.

'I'll be fine in a second,' he said, shaking less, but with eyes still squeezed closed. 'Sorry.'

'You don't need to apologise at all. I feel like I should. What did I do?'

'I just... I really don't like seeing myself in photos. At all.'

Suga could tell this wasn't just vanity, Akaashi's skin had gone grey, and he looked clammy. He could tell now wasn't the time to get into whatever was going on, and he just stayed quiet, sitting close to Akaashi without touching him. He took out his phone, and purged it of the offending images.

'I've deleted the photos. Do you want to check my phone?'

He finally opened his eyes, and looked at him, genuine gratitude showing in his eyes. 'No, I trust you. Thank you. You should go and get the shop ready for the day. Bokuto will be here soon.'

'Will you be ok?'

'Yeah, I just feel silly again, now. I'll go and finish up.' He got up with a wobble, and walked back into the kitchen. The cookie in the bag still sat there near the sink, mocking him, so he picked it up and threw it at the bin.

–

The problem Akaashi had found so far while working with Bokuto was his boundless enthusiasm. It was a lethal combination when he was feeling positive, as he made ridiculous things seem completely reasonable. It was the only reason they were now standing outside a bank, at four in the afternoon, wearing sunglasses, and carrying a brown paper bag.

'I can't believe you talked me into this,' Akaashi said, shaking his head.

'Just because you made the decision while you were drunk, it doesn't mean it's automatically wrong.'

'I can't do it. What if it's the wrong bank?'

Bokuto looked through the window. 'I can see him from here. He's working on the counter and everything, this is too perfect.'

At the shop, the afternoon had grown quiet after the lunch rush, and talk had turned to Saturday night, much to Akaashi's initial chagrin. However, after a few minutes of Bokuto's friendly teasing, Suga's reassurance that no one thought he was an idiot, and stories from the both of them about things they'd done which were more more embarrassing, he was feeling lighter and more confident. Maybe he could do something cute.

They persuaded him to make another, more circular cookie, with neater writing and less carrot peelings stuck to it. He tucked it inside another Koushi's branded bag (as it had the telephone number printed on it, and was therefore integral to the plan), and after more encouragement from Suga, and Hinata via text, Bokuto and Akaashi had made their way to the bank.

The pep talk back at the shop had been fading from his mind, until he followed Bokuto's eyeline. He'd been wondering if he'd exaggerated his affection for Ennoshita while drunk, but seeing him again proved this wasn't the case.

Usually, the kind of men he went for were taller, broader and hairier, but there was something about Ennoshita that just took his breath away. Maybe it was because he wasn't his usual type that he found him so fascinating.

He was just so _neat_ ; his hair was never out of place, his suit was unwrinkled, even his expression was smooth.

All he wanted to do was mess him up; he wanted to see those deep brown eyes lit up in genuine pleasure, see his mouth turned up into a smile wider that those he'd already seen, how it would feel to thread his hands through his hair, get his suit roughed up, and just what he could do to him to make him close his eyes and sigh.

It wasn't just his appearance, although as he knew very little else about him, he knew he did like the way he looked. It was just the promise of _more_ ; what would cause that wider smile he wanted to see, what joke would make him laugh so much he had to hold his stomach. He even wanted to know what he could do to cause his face to show a more negative emotion than just mild irritation at some bread selling out.

He'd looked at the profile picture on Instagram an embarrassing number of times since Saturday night; in fact he'd taken a screen shot of it, just so he could zoom in on it. He was undeniably handsome, in an understated way. They would look good together, arm in arm.

That was it, he admitted it. This crush was getting out of hand. He took a deep breath, and said to Bokuto, 'You're right, I have to do something. I'm still not sure about going in there, though.'

'Ok, how about this? I'll go in, and give the bag to someone to give to him?'

'Yes! Let's do that. Quick, before I change my mind.'

Bokuto grabbed the bag, and ran into the bank, and Akaashi took his position watching through the window. He went over to reception, and started talking to the woman on the counter. He passed over the bag, waving his arms as he was obviously explaining what he wanted her to do. She looked a bit confused, so he surreptitiously pointed towards Ennoshita. She smiled, he said something else, probably thanking her, and then he came back out towards Akaashi.

'What did you say to her?'

'I said I had something for my friend Ennoshita. She didn't know who I meant, so I told her the one in the blue suit with dark hair.'

'I think they all have blue suits on, you know,' Akaashi said, looking back through the window, 'It must be the uniform.'

'I pointed to him, it's fine.'

'Oh, yeah, sorry I did see that.' He slapped the other man on the back in a rare gesture. 'Thanks for doing that, mate. Let's get back to work.'

–

On the walk back, the anxiety had started. He'd made a mistake. Back at the shop, he was on edge waiting for the phone to ring, even though he had no idea whether Ennoshita would even open the bag, let alone follow the order written on the cookie.

Five o'clock came and went, and they all started clearing up for closing. Even with the staff outing, Akaashi had enough nervous energy to finish decorating a carrot cake, and freeze two spare ones for the weekend, as well as a batch of tuna melt mixture in the hopes that Ennoshita would still come in for his usual. The recipe was now permanently free of onion and garlic, and had chopped up olives in it, no one else minded, and he knew Ennoshita liked it that way.

It was only then he realised, what if he read the cookie, realised what it meant, but then just stopped coming in? He'd been more concerned about being turned down, he hadn't even considered that it might stop him coming back at all.

Just at that moment, he heard the main door slam open, and someone shouting, 'Sugawara! Get out here!'

Unsure of what was happening, Akaashi went out onto the shop floor to make sure Suga had someone with him, and saw Bokuto also walking protectively towards their boss. The man shouting was dark haired, and wearing a blue suit.

'Sawamura! What are you...' Suga was visibly shaken, and the other two men tried to form a barrier of sorts between him and the interloper.

'I told you before. No. Leave me alone.'

He threw something on the floor, and stormed out again. They all looked down, and saw the brown paper bag he'd prepared in the kitchen earlier, with an air of hope and romantic possibility. The cookie was poking out of the top, where it had been opened by Sawamura.

Bokuto and Akaashi both looked up at Suga to see if he was ok. There were tears welling in his eyes.

'I think that girl in the bank might not have known who you were pointing at,' he said, putting his head in his hands.

 

 

 

\----------------------------------------

I tried to draw Akaashi smiling widely while drunk, and this was the result. I think it gets across the image in my head I was trying to describe. 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32801633542/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry - I just liked the idea of the DaiSuga dynamic not working in the way it usually does


	6. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to see if Daichi can redeem himself

'I'm so sorry, Suga, this is all my fault,' Bokuto was saying, already going over to hug his boss.

It was obvious it wasn't. It was Akaashi's doing, he knew it, they all knew it. Suga was distraught, and it never would have happened if he hadn't been drinking on Saturday night, this whole chain reaction would never have started.

'No, Bokuto, it's not your fault,' Suga said into Bokuto's chest, I encouraged it as well.'

Akaashi could feel unspoken words hanging in the air, so he joined in before someone else said them.

'No, it's all my fault. Don't worry, I'll get my things.'

'What the fuck are you talking about, you're the least to blame,' said Bokuto, over the head of a snivelling Suga.

'I don't blame you, Akaashi,' Suga lifted his head, while extending an arm backwards. Bokuto also reached out.

He walked over to join them, faltering on the edge of their group. He tentatively put a hand on Suga's shoulder, but as he was close enough for Bokuto's long arm to reach, he was pulled into a three-way hug, his arms trapped by his sides by the other two.

The next thirty seconds were like a landslide.

During the first ten seconds, his annoyance at being touched was fading, and the tension in his shoulders was loosening. Bokuto had warm hands and strong arms, and it felt good to be held by someone (By a friend? That thought surprised him)

The next ten seconds, he'd started crying too. Everything he'd held in since Saturday night's confession, all the terrible things he'd said to himself, the guilt he felt for causing someone to shout at his friend (There it was again) – it was now all running in watery streaks down his cheeks.

The final ten seconds of the hug, he was joining in, releasing both of his arms and putting one around Suga's neck in the centre, the other across Bokuto's broad back. He felt them return the hug, Suga reaching behind him at an awkward angle.

'Guys, this is great and all, but my arm really hurts,' he said, the angle finally breaking him.

They stood away from each other, and there was a small silence, before uncomfortable laughing started.

Bokuto was first to break the mood. 'What was that shit about getting your things?'

He'd said it as a knee jerk reaction to making a mess of things, but now Akaashi could see it was perhaps a bit over the top to leave because of this, it wasn't that much of a disaster.

'I thought I should leave before I was sacked.'

Suga looked at him, anger starting to mix in with the fondness in his face. 'As if I'd sack you for that! Do you always make everything about you?' He put a hand to his mouth when he saw Akaashi look away. 'I'm sorry, that was a bit harsh.'

'No, that's fair. I do have a tendency towards melodrama.'

'So what are we going to do about this? We can't just ignore it.'

Akaashi took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do, but it wasn't going to be easy. 'I should go and explain to Sawamura.'

'That.. would be a really nice gesture. Thank you.' Whatever Suga had expected the solution to be, it seemed he hadn't thought Akaashi would offer such a thing.

'Are you ok now, Suga,' Bokuto asked, still looking at him with concern.

'Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a shock seeing him after so long. I don't think I was as over it as I thought.'

He was pulled back into a sideways hug by Bokuto, who smiled and mouthed 'you ok?' at the other man. Akaashi nodded back, and made plans in his head of what he was going to say the next morning. He would sort this stupid situation, and make sure Suga was back to his old self.

–

'Good morning, is it possible to speak to Sawamura Daichi?'

'I think he has a nine fifteen appointment, but I can try and see if he's free before it starts. What's it regarding?' the receptionist, thankfully a different one from the day before, asked him.

'It's a personal matter. If you could tell him it's about the package from yesterday?'

She nodded, a slight confusion threatening her professional demeanour, as she walked into the back to find Sawamura. A few seconds later, the man he'd seen yesterday at Koushi's came out, looking angry. When he saw it was not Suga, his face softened, just slightly, and he held open his door, indicating for Akaashi to join him in his office.

'What is it?' he snapped, 'I have an appointment.'

'This won't take long. First of all, my name is Akaashi Keiji, and I work with Sugawara.'

Sawamura shrugged, impatiently. 'And?' Akaashi decided to definitely get to the point as quickly as possible.

'Yesterday was my fault. Not Sugawara's. Please don't be angry with him, he had nothing to do with that...'

'You were interfering, trying to get me to call him? I don't even know you!'

Akaashi held up his hands. 'No, sorry, I'm not explaining myself properly. I was trying to be quick.' He looked meaningfully at Sawamura, a look that said, 'if you want to know, stop interrupting and stop rushing me.'

'Carry on.'

'I made the cookie, and my friend asked someone here yesterday to give it to someone else. They just got the wrong person. It's as simple as that.'

'Really? That sounds pretty unlikely.'

'Why? You told him to leave you alone, and he has done for, what, five years? Suddenly now he makes you a biscuit? He's not an idiot.'

Sawamura sighed. 'When you put it like that, yeah, it did seem... weird.' Akaashi studied his face as he thought. There was definitely more to this than Akaashi knew, but he wasn't about to mess up this apology, so he put the niggle to one side.

'Exactly. It was a stupid, drunken idea I had on Saturday night, we never should have gone through with it.'

'So, who was the cookie meant for?'

'Not you, I promise.'

'I'm not sure I'll completely believe this unless I know,' Sawamura said, narrowing his eyes.

Akaashi looked at him, trying to work out if he was telling the truth, or just messing with him. He raised an eyebrow. 'Do I really have to tell you?'

'How about, I try and guess? You have to tell me, but only if I get it right.'

He thought for a second, and nodded. He was confident he wouldn't guess, so it would be fine.

'You work with Koushi?' There was another part of the niggle; he called him by his first name. 'You the new chef?'

He nodded, and the darkness on Sawamura's face finally lifted. He had a great smile, a well practised one that settled into all the corners of his face. He could see why Suga had fallen for him; they were a similar age, but polar opposites in appearance and personality. Underneath a scary exterior, he was clearly warm and friendly.

In getting sidetracked thinking about Sawamura's qualities, he hadn't picked up on a detail from what he'd said. 'Wait. How did you know we had a new chef? You never come in any more.'

'I think you know, if you really think about it. And I think if I'm right about who that cookie was for, it's a pity it didn't get to the right person.'

Sawamura looked behind him, through the glass backing of his office, and towards the counter. There were three people serving customers, two women and a man, all wearing the same uniform blue suit.

'It's one of those three, isn't it?'

Akaashi focused on Ennoshita. His tie was blue today, a brighter blue than the navy of his suit. He counted a pile of ten pound notes, his agile fingers flipping through them at speed. His tongue came out of the corner of his mouth, and he licked the thumb he was using to rifle through the money.

He looked at Sawamura. 'I think you already know you're right.'

He stared back at him, an intensity in his eyes. 'Don't stop trying. Things didn't work out with me and Koushi, that doesn't mean it won't with Ennoshita.'

Akaashi closed his eyes, before looking back towards the counter. Ennoshita had finished counting the money, and was sipping tea in-between customers. He was drinking from a white china teacup, and he could see there was a saucer close by. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to know why on earth he was using a dainty cup and saucer.

'Thank you, Sawamura.'

'No problem.' He looked back towards the counter again, to where Akaashi was looking, before saying, 'He's right, you know.'

'Huh?'

He waited for Akaashi to look back at him before finishing. 'You really do have the most beautiful eyes.'

 

 

 

 

\----------------------------------------

Today I thought I'd show you how I imagine Hinata might look at 18 working in Koushi's.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32113337064/in/album-72157675475586543/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things were a bit fraught to start with, but I promise after today, things will start getting better


	7. Tuna Tapenade Crostini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone realises your author is orally fixated

Walking back to Koushi's, his mind was filled with uneasy hope. Ennoshita had talked about him at work. He'd said he had beautiful eyes, just casually told other people he thought his eyes were beautiful. Who does that so easily?

Sawamura's appointment had arrived before he could get much more information from him, but he told him that the other week Ennoshita had come back with his lunch, told a colleague that there was a new chef at Koushi's, and he had beautiful eyes.

He couldn't stop rolling those words over in his mind. It wasn't the kind of thing you said about someone you weren't interested in, was it? There was something there; Ennoshita had told other people about him.

It wasn't that he didn't know he had nice eyes, he'd been told for years about how handsome he was. He knew he was objectively good looking, it wasn't arrogance, he just had a good mixture of genes. His Japanese father had supplied his dark green, cat like eyes, while he got his dark curly hair and olive skin from his Italian mother.

Growing up, his features hadn't been as much of a help as others imagined; people didn't bother getting to know him, would assume a lot about him just from the way he looked. He would often be underestimated in his intelligence, just because of his looks, so if anything he had to work even harder to be taken seriously. His brooding expression was seen as him thinking himself above other people, when really he was observant, and just listening and watching intently. Being good looking didn't mean he wasn't anxious, and people often laughed off any worries he had. It seemed people didn't think you had problems if you had a good face, as if that was all that mattered.

As a teenager, he'd really started to resent his appearance. Once puberty hit his year group, the girls would fall all over him. It became harder to turn them down without looking like an arsehole, so he decided to just come out as gay, and things become even worse. Reactions varied from people thinking it was obvious, as he was so pretty, to well intentioned girls trying to become his friend to get advice on fashion and make-up, to being teased about 'being the girl'.

The same face people said would get him all the girls, that they had described as handsome, was now calling his masculinity into question. It was hard to understand how the exact same face could be something men would envy one minute, and want to destroy the next. He never got hit, but he almost wished he had, a broken nose might stop people likening him to a girl. He might like men, but he was a man himself, and nothing had changed there.

So after that, not looking at his face became a habit, and he'd never grown out of it. Of course, he'd have to use the mirror once a day, just to check his hair in the morning, have a shave, but after that, he wouldn't know until the next day what he looked like, and he'd be able to forget what his face was like at all. He knew other people would still notice he was good looking, but he was more confident not remembering.

How many people noticed him, and then went and told someone else about it? Of those, how many were men? How many were telling work colleagues instead of gossiping with their close friends?

Ennoshita was a conundrum he wanted to solve. A quiet, well-groomed man in a suit, who would talk at work about the beautiful eyes of the man who made his sandwiches.

–

Suga was waiting for him when he returned. He hadn't taken very long at the bank, and he'd reassured him that they'd handle anyone needing food.

'Hey, Akaashi,' he said, not wanting to ask the question he really wanted to know the answer to.

'It's all sorted. I told him it was me, and he believed it.'

He breathed out in relief. 'That's great. Thank you for doing that. Let's try to put it all behind us now, eh?'

This was fine with Akaashi. He didn't really want to talk about what had gone on in Sawamura's office, he was still processing his own feelings on the matter, especially as he'd remembered it was Tuesday, and that meant Ennoshita would be coming for his lunch in a couple of hours.

He hadn't got the impression that anyone in the bank knew about the cookie. Sawamura didn't seem like the sort of person to show his anger unless he had to; he imagined he'd seen the cookie quickly, in his office alone, and put it straight back inside the bag, waiting until the end of the day to react to it, and only then with the other person involved. However, there was still a slim chance Ennoshita already knew about the cookie, he needed a different approach.

Tuna and olives, that was the only thing he knew for sure that Ennoshita liked; he'd come up with something for a lunch special using them, and just hope he'd try it, maybe even love it.

The whole time he washed potatoes, grated cheese, put out the salads, restocked the fridge, he tried to think of something he could use tuna and olives in which wasn't just another sandwich. Pasta maybe, he didn't know if he even ate pasta, and didn't have time to look at Instagram (which was probably a good thing, he didn't want to get sidetracked).

Eventually, at about eleven o'clock, he had a flash of inspiration while making someone some toast. In-between customers, he pulsed some tuna, olives, capers, mascarpone, and lemon juice, seasoning it with parsley and black pepper. It tasted great, but as it was a thick brown paste, it looked like, to be honest, shit. He brushed some slices of French bread with olive oil, and toasted them on one side, then turned them over, piled on some of the tapenade, and toasted it all again. With some more parsley sprinkled over them, they looked slightly more appetising, so he transferred them to the warmer, and wrote 'Tuna tapenade crostini' onto the small table-top blackboard he used for his specials.

It wasn't long until his target arrived, and for the second time that day he got to look at Ennoshita. He didn't know if it was just because of what he'd been told earlier, but when he caught his eye as he walked towards the counter, the smile he got in return seemed marginally larger than the week before.

'Hey!' Ennoshita said, sounding genuinely pleased to see him. 'Can I get a tuna melt, please?'

'Hi! Actually I wondered if you might want to try the new special today? It's tuna tapenade.'

He had been walking towards the table to take his usual seat, but at this Ennoshita paused, and walked back over to the counter, head cocked to one side.

'You made something with tuna and olives in?'

Akaashi nodded. 'Yeah. You like tuna and olives, right?' He carried on looking at him, expression unchanging, trying to look innocent.

Was that suspicion flashing across his face? 'Amongst other things. I don't just eat tuna, you know.' Or was it anger, had he upset him?

'No, well, obviously you don't just eat tuna. I just haven't seen you eat anything else.'

'Ah, so you _did_ make this with me in mind.' He caught the flash again, and this time he knew what it was. He was teasing him. 'Can I see it?'

Akaashi got the plate of crostini out of the warmer. There were three pieces of toast with the topping, arranged with the points meeting at one side of the plate, splaying outwards. He held it up, as if expecting to be given a grade.

'Akaashi,' he said, his voice starting to betray him, 'That looks revolting.' Then, finally, his mouth stretched into a bigger smile, and his chest shook as he huffed out of his nose.

He knew his name. Not only that, Akaashi had made him laugh. Even if he was laughing at the poo on toast he'd created for him, he was smiling so much his eyes had narrowed, and his mouth was open enough that he could just see his teeth.

'Such ingratitude. I made this just for you, you know.'

Ennoshita's face dropped, just for a second, until he worked out Akaashi was teasing back, and then the usual thin smile was back. 'I'm not sure whether I should be flattered that you made this while you thought about me.'

'If you taste it, I think you might be more sure that it's a compliment.'

'Ok, I'll take one of these crap-stini things, but I want a tuna melt as well.'

Akaashi snorted out a laugh. It wasn't the most sophisticated joke he'd ever heard, but it was fast wordplay, and had taken him by surprise.

'I'll get making it, sit down if you want.'

'I'll just wait here, if that's ok?'

He looked up at Ennoshita, and caught him looking straight at him. They both smirked, and held each other's gaze a little too long to be anything other than flirty. He dragged himself away, and made the tuna melt, popping it under the grill.

'Try the crostini while you wait,' he said, motioning at the plate he'd left on top of the counter. 'No charge.'

Ennoshita picked up one of the toasted breads, and looked at it closely. 'You might not be charging me for it, but I might bill you later if it poisons me.'

'I promise it won't poison you, but if it does, I'll make it up to you.'

'Promises, promises,' he said, putting it in his mouth and taking a bite, never taking his eyes off Akaashi. He chewed it, looking thoughtful. 'Hmm, that's not bad at all, actually.'

'You should never judge something by the way it looks, you know.'

'So I hear.' He took another bite, his other hand coming up quickly to his mouth as the bread started to break apart. He rescued an errant glob of tapenade with his finger, and wiped it back onto the toast. Akaashi started passing a napkin to him to wipe his hands, but he'd already put the end of the finger in his mouth. They were looking directly at each other again, when Ennoshita opened his mouth to speak.

'Akaashi?'

'Yes?' He was almost leaning across the counter in his eagerness to hear what he was going to say.

'I think my tuna melt is burning.'

 

 

 

\----------------------------------------

40 year old Daichi in a suit, anyone?

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32918349276/in/album-72157675475586543/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi canonically has blue eyes, apparently, but after reading ThinkingCAPSLOCK's Aka based fics, I decided to make his eyes green as a tribute to them. His eyes generally seem to be green in fanfic anyway, but I thought I'd mention it in case anyone wondered why I described them as green. Also, he often seems to be part Italian in fics. I haven't finished reading the manga yet, so I have no idea if that's canon, but it always made sense to me with his hair.


	8. Pomegranate Molasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone says 'well that would never happen in real life' and I just shrug and say 'fan fic'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading a bit quicker than I planned, because I've finished the next part of this, and I'm just too excited about these two dorks.

He'd read a lot of reviews of this place, and had been on the waiting list for a table since it opened four months ago, but now finally he'd tried the tasting menu at 'Under a Poor Coat', and he could consider something crossed off his bucket list; he'd eaten food prepared by someone with two Michelin stars.

It wasn't cheap, even for the lunchtime sitting, but it had been worth scrimping and saving his wages for the last few weeks. Sitting there, in a restaurant that was more like an art exhibit than anything else, he read back through his notebook to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

The meal had consisted of a round metal plate, with thirteen divots in it, each one containing a different course. He had photographed each one before eating it, and then made notes afterwards on flavours and textures. The smoked mackerel pate was dusted with cocoa, the pudding had butternut squash in it, and he would remember the pomegranate molasses as long as he lived.

He looked up at the white walls, splashed with black paint, and shifted in his chair. These stark metal and black leather monstrosities matched the other industrial features, but they weren't comfortable for long periods of time. He didn't know if they'd chosen them on purpose to get people to move on quicker, but it seemed unlikely they rushed people to leave considering the waiting time to eat here.

The waiting staff mainly wore waistcoats and ties, with aprons tying at the waist, similar to the one he wore at work but these were black and primly ironed, not pink and flour stained. He leaned back on the chair, but it was still as uncomfortable as before.

He was feeling strange. Usually after a meal, he would be buzzing with excitement, but this time the comedown had started before he'd even paid the bill. He flicked through his phone photos to remind himself of how good the food had been, and that's when it hit him.

He was lonely. What good was eating this food without someone to talk about it with afterwards?

He opened up Instagram to share one of the photos; he chose the one of his coffee, which had come in a mug shaped like a head. It had made him smile, but when he noticed the people eating in couples had received one black and one white head, he started to feel empty again. He chose a filter, and gave it a short caption, before scrolling through his feed, trying to connect with someone.

There was a photograph of the inside of a building, with a familiar backdrop showing through the window, and he realised someone he followed must be on the same street as him. That was no big deal, he followed a lot of people who lived in Leeds, and this was one of the main shopping streets. He peered at the username to see who'd posted it, and his heart leapt.

It was RunnerUp. He looked closer at the photograph, and realised it wasn't just the same street, he was in the same building.

He jumped up from his seat, and looked around the restaurant, but he couldn't see him. Going quickly over to the nearest staff, he asked them to please get him the bill, quickly, and moved from foot to foot until they complied. Barely glancing at the total, he used his contactless card, and ran down the stairs two at a time.

Under a Poor Coat was situated above a clothing shop, and there, talking to a tall brown haired man in glasses and looking at ties, was Ennoshita.

He was barely recognisable from the back, his suit replaced with dark slim fit jeans, and a soft grey knitted polo shirt, but he recognised him as soon as he turned his head to the side to answer the sales assistant.

Five minutes ago, he'd been sitting in a restaurant, one he'd been waiting to eat in for months, which had cost him a week's wages, and he'd never felt so empty. With just one look at Ennoshita, the loneliness he'd felt was evaporating, he couldn't stop himself from walking over immediately.

'I think you should go for the green one,' he said, pointing at the one in the assistant's left hand.

'Akaashi! What a pleasant surprise!' He put his hand out towards him, and then looked down at it as if he was surprised. 'Look at that, what the fuck am I doing?' he said, and started laughing.

Akaashi took the opportunity before Ennoshita could change his mind, and took the extended hand in his. 'Nice to meet you, I'm Akaashi Keiji. And you are?'

'Ennoshita Chikara, a pleasure.' He bent slightly, and tipped an imaginary hat.

They were brought out of their smiling at each other, still hand in hand, by a snort from next to them, and they noticed the assistant sneering at them.

'Ah sorry, yeah I'll take that green one then, I guess. Oh, and the black smudgy one. Thanks.'

The assistant wandered off to get the ties wrapped up, and the other two finally let go of each other. There was an awkward moment, where neither of them seemed to know what to do.

'It's odd isn't it? Seeing people out of context,' Ennoshita finally asked with a smile, 'I mean obviously you wouldn't wear an apron outside of work, but you look totally different today.'

'I was thinking the same thing about you and your suit,' he said, smiling back.

'So, what are you up to anyway? Did you follow me here to assault me with more revolting food?'

'Not quite, I was having lunch upstairs.'

'Really? Bloody hell, how did you manage to get a table there?'

'Just waited on the list.'

'Was it as good as everyone says?'

Akaashi thought about this for a minute. He really had enjoyed the food, despite feeling lonely afterwards, and the chat with Ennoshita had helped take the edge off his bitterness. However, this unexpected meeting had been going well, and he spotted an opportunity to make the most of it. He decided to go with it, maybe it would be a good idea.

'It was good food, but it would have been better if I'd had someone to share it with.'

'Yeah? Maybe next time, you should ask someone along. Someone who appreciates how hard it is to get a table.'

Definitely a good idea.

'Well, it's not quite as exclusive, but I can get us a table at that coffee shop next door if you like?'

'Wow, impressive, I've heard there's a waiting list of at least two minutes. Ok, let me finish paying here, and I'll see you there in a minute.'

He wandered off to get them a table, knowing that even though the coffee wouldn't come in head shaped mugs, he'd remember the taste of it for far longer than that molasses.

–

The biggest problem with finally getting to sit down and talk to someone you've had an ongoing thing for, is that you have to hide how much you already know that you're not supposed to.

As he sat there waiting for Ennoshita, he thought back on what he knew from talking to him briefly at the shop, and what he knew from stalking his Instagram page and from talking to Sawamura. The realisation he shouldn't even know that he worked in a bank, let alone that he made films in his spare time, was a shock; Ennoshita had only really talked to him in person about the foods he liked and disliked, mainly the latter to be honest, so he was going to have to play dumb about a lot of things.

A couple nearby carrying a tray were getting twitchy, and he knew they were eyeing up his table, thinking he should be leaving if he wasn't eating. Ennoshita was taking longer than he'd expected, so he begrudgingly stood and let them have the coveted sofa seating, and got in line at the counter. Surely he wouldn't be much longer?

It was only when he was almost at the till that he had the thought that maybe he wouldn't show up at all. The feeling of dread was threatening, and he was about to leave the queue, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard someone saying, 'Sorry, that took ages! That sales assistant knows his clothes, but he couldn't work the bloody card machine.' Relief washed over him as he looked up to see him, the expression on his face, making him wonder why he ever thought he wouldn't follow him.

'What can I get you?' the server was asking, trying to get their attention.

'Sorry, urm, double espresso please. What would you like?'

'Could I get a cup of tea? Oh, and one of those shortbread things, I'll pay you back.'

'It's fine, my treat.' He relayed the order to the server, and suggested Ennoshita went and found a table while he waited. He watched his head bobbing around looking for somewhere, then as he found a table around a corner, he caught Akaashi's eye, and waved slightly so he knew where he'd gone.

It was busy, no doubt as it was a Saturday and a chain coffee shop, but the small table tucked away under the stairs was an oasis of calm. Ennoshita had his phone out, but put it down on the table as he had the teapot, milk, cup, and shortbread placed in front of him.

'You need sugar before I sit down?'

'No, that's great thank you.' Akaashi joined him, with his small cup of espresso looking very meagre in front of Ennoshita's array. 'Is that all you're having?'

'I just had lunch.'

'Of course.' He poured out his tea into the cup, watching the swirling liquid. 'I'm glad it's just a normal cup and saucer here, I couldn't have drunk anything from one of those heads.'

'I was just glad it wasn't a black cup, I don't like drinking from coloured cups.'

Ennoshita looked up, his smirk was a lot darker than any Akaashi had already seen, although he had a twinkle in his brown eyes as well. 'I _knew_ that was you.'

Akaashi stopped drinking his coffee. There was a feeling in the air; something had changed somehow; he couldn't put his finger on it, but he thought there had been a shift of power.

'What was me?'

'Where did you get your pizza done?' he asked, watching him over his teacup as he took a drink.

'What pizza? They didn't have pizza ...' He stopped speaking and replayed the last few lines of conversation in his mind. There was something out of place. If he took a minute he'd find it.

'Take your time, I'm not going anywhere.' He put his cup down and picked up the shortbread. His face never really looked that different, but Akaashi was starting to pick up slight changes, and this was a new expression. He didn't look angry, it was bordering on smugness, but without a hint of cruelty. Ennoshita was teasing him about something, but it was good natured, and almost a shared experience.

Somehow that thought brought something into focus from earlier; The black and white head mugs.

'How did you know about the head mug?' He hadn't told anyone about that yet, only... 'Oh, shit.'

He'd thought before that Ennoshita himself was a puzzle, but right now he was sitting back, enjoying watching Akaashi put together the pieces.

'I wasn't certain until just now, but I suspected it. I mean, a food blog just starts following me out of nowhere. I don't post about food, why would they follow me?'

He took another drink, and paused, as if waiting for Akaashi to say something. When he just carried on staring at his cup, Ennoshita continued.

'Really though, it was seeing you on Tuesday morning coming into the bank that finally did it. It was that out of context thing. You didn't have your apron on yet, and I could see your shape through your shirt.'

Ennoshita's hand snaked across the table, and as it touched his fingers, Akaashi looked up into intense brown eyes. They were darker, but were still glimmering, and that smirk was still there.

'I saved that photo you know. You deleted it, but I got a screen shot first.' His thumb was circling Akaashi's palm, and their eyes were still locked together. His voice was low, as he said, 'I can't believe someone who works with food has such a perfect body.'

Unable to stand the tension any more, he looked away, and pointlessly asked, 'You saw the photo?'

'The one of the mug? Yeah, just now,' he said innocently, withdrawing his hand as if nothing had happened. 'Don't forget your coffee, it's getting cold.'

'You know who I am?'

Ennoshita laughed. 'On Instagram? Yeah, I know your username is Foodini. Which is fucking ridiculous, and perfect. But here, now? Not at all. You give nothing away, Akaashi. Your face is even blanker than mine. All I know about you is that you cook, and you have a pizza tattoo.'

'That's one more thing than most people know.'

'I'd like to know more though. And I think you'd like to get to know me? Unless I'm misreading that face of yours.'

He spoke quietly, looking back up at him. 'You're not misreading me, Ennoshita.'

'Keiji?' his voice returned to its lower register, and he joined their hands again, 'You can call me Chikara.'

 

 

 

 

 

\-------------

I really wanted to draw disinterested, sneering clothes assistant Oikawa, and then I added Enno in his street clothes. I wanted him to have quite expensive clothes, while still not having much dress sense.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32943970921/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This restaurant is loosely based on one (I haven't been to) in Leeds called The Man Behind the Curtain which is named after a Wizard of Oz quote. The chef used it as a stab at the cult of celebrity chef, as in not to judge the food based on the chef, or 'the man behind the curtain'. So I tried to name this restaurant in a similar way, using a part of the Scottish proverb - 'Do not judge by appearances, a rich heart may be under a poor coat'. It also fits in with what Akaashi was thinking in the last chapter, if it's not too obvious to point that out. The food changes all the time (he has Carte Blanche, meaning he can just serve basically whatever he wants) but it's usually a tasting menu, so I used this review as the basis for the food. It really is above a clothing shop, with reviews which often mention the rude staff, unfortunately, but they also often praise the man who sells men's clothing, which is why I decided to give Oikawa a tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it, cameo


	9. Chicken Caesar Salad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where everything is tied up - for now.

(Instagram message conversation)

 **RunnerUp >** I can't believe we still didn't swap mobile numbers on Saturday. I have a favour to ask before I come in this week, and I didn't know how else to contact you without him knowing. Can I get your email address or phone number or something?

 **Foodini > **Sounds intriguing. Here you go. (contact details attached)

 **RunnerUp >** I actually do need a favour, it's not just a way to get your number. Although if I didn't need the favour, I'd be asking anyway.

 **Foodini > **If you hadn't asked, I would have done.

 **RunnerUp >** Good to know. Emailing now. See you Tuesday.

He waited a few minutes, before opening his email. Sure enough, there was an email from Ennoshita, outlining what he needed. A sly grin spread across Akaashi's face as he read through the request, and he felt a niggle starting to smooth itself out.

–

'Hey Suga!' he said as his boss wandered in through the back door. Ever since Sawamura had been into the shop the week before, he hadn't been his usual self, and neither Bokuto nor Akaashi had any idea what they could do about it.

Going and talking to Sawamura hadn't given any closure, and the reopened wounds weren't going to heal over without interference. Ennoshita's email could be the stitches everyone needed, and he was finding it hard to keep to himself.

'Hey,' came the flat response, as he unlocked the till, and counted the float.

'Good weekend?'

'Fine.'

'I went to that posh restaurant. Do you want to see a photo of the food?'

'Not right now.'

'I bumped into...'

'Look, Akaashi, sorry, I don't want to talk at the minute,' he snapped, 'Go and sort the kitchen out.'

He walked off to the kitchen, passing Bokuto on the way.

'How's he doing today?' he asked, motioning at Suga.

'He's about the same. Just wait a bit, I have something in the works.' Akaashi tapped his nose.

Bokuto nudged him. 'You sly dog! Can you tell me?'

'Well, it wasn't my idea, really. I got an email from Ennoshita...'

'Oh yeah? Have things moved on with him?'

He leaned in toward Bokuto, lowering his voice. 'We had coffee Saturday, and he said he'd see me tomorrow.'

Bokuto slapped him on the back, laughing loudly. 'Good one, Akaashi!'

'Could you two wankers just stop talking shit, and please get to work?' Suga shouted, storming over towards them. It was the angriest Akaashi had ever heard him.

'Bokuto, go and watch the main counter for a minute.'

'Don't tell my other staff what to do!' Suga was still shouting, as Bokuto walked to the main counter, and Akaashi took him by the arm, and dragged him into the kitchen. He stood in front of him, arms crossed, looking at his boss like he was an errant school child.

'Suga, I know you're hurting, but please don't take it out on us.'

'I'm not! You're gossiping, when you should be working. I don't pay you to stand around, you know!'

'That's not fair and you know it.'

'I'm jealous! For fuck's sake! Things just... worked out for you, didn't they?' His voice was starting to break. 'It's just... it's so similar. I can't...'

Akaashi pulled him in to his chest as he started to cry, stroking the back of his head. 'I know, Suga, and I'm really sorry.' He'd already thought about how the situation was a parallel, they even worked in the same bank, and yet things had worked out so differently. If things had been the other way around, Akaashi would have been gutted, and he didn't want Suga to think he took this for granted.

'I'm happy for you, really. I just...'

'I know, I know.' He carried on stroking his hair, letting him cry. This had been a long time coming, he deserved the release.

'Fucking hell, I'm such a mess.'

'I know that too.' He pulled back from Suga, and put their foreheads together. 'But you won't be forever.'

'Thank you. I'll be happy for you, in the end. Just give me time.' He pulled Akaashi in again for a hug, before saying, 'Let's get to work, before Bokuto breaks something.'

–

(Text message conversation)

 **Ennoshita > **Hey, Keiji. Is everything ready?

 **Akaashi >> **I made it today, it's all ready to collect.

 **Ennoshita > **Excellent, thank you.

 **Akaashi >> **What time are you coming in?

 **Ennoshita > **About 12.30. I'm looking forward to seeing you again.

 **Akaashi >> **Me too.

 **Ennoshita > **I'm glad about that.

 **Akaashi >> **What do you want for lunch? I can have it ready for you. More time to talk.

 **Ennoshita > **Can you make me a Chicken Caesar salad?

 **Akaashi >> **Of course! Anchovies?

 **Ennoshita > **It's not a Caesar salad without anchovies, Keiji.

 **Akaashi >> **Want me to leave out the garlic?

 **Ennoshita > **I think you should. Don't you?

 **Akaashi >> **Depends what you have planned, I think.

 **Ennoshita > **I think... no garlic.

 **Akaashi >> **It'll be waiting for you.

 **Ennoshita > **The salad?

 **Akaashi >> **And the rest...

 **Ennoshita > **That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard.

 **Akaashi >> **Oh, talking of which, you want parmesan, right?

 **Ennoshita >** It's not a Caesar salad without parmesan, Keiji.

 **Akaashi >> **Go to sleep, Chikara.

–

There was a frisson in the air, as Akaashi made the salad. He spent the morning grilling chicken, making croutons with ciabatta, and blending the dressing using anchovies but no garlic. He made enough that he could make a few cartons of it for takeaway, but the lion's share was in a patterned bowl in the fridge, waiting for Ennoshita.

Just before twelve, he nipped to the bathroom, knowing it would be too busy for the next couple of hours. As he washed his hands, he lifted his head, and looked at himself in the mirror. He smoothed his eyebrows with a wet finger, and checked his teeth by pulling his lips into a grimace. He moved the hair falling onto his forehead off to one side, and tucked a stray lock behind his ear. He turned to the side, and checked for food stains, brushing his hands over the back of his jeans. He smiled, remembering what Ennoshita had said, thankful for his figure for the first time he could remember.

He went back out, and he was there waiting, as if conjured there by thought alone.

'You're early, Chikara.'

'I couldn't wait any more, Keiji.'

'Yeah?' He leaned on the counter on his elbows, smiling up at Ennoshita.

'Yeah,' Ennoshita also leant down, bringing his mouth level to his ear, 'I want to see what I ordered.'

'I've got it here ready for you.'

'Have you got my Caesar salad as well?' His voice was barely audible, but he could feel his breath ghosting across his cheek. 'I'm starving.' He moved his head back slightly until they were grinning at each other.

A loud cough came from behind him, and they looked around to see Bokuto, looking annoyed. Akaashi stood up quickly, and tried not to look guilty.

'Don't rub it in, Suga's still upset.' He wasn't really angry, just concerned for his other friend, but Akaashi was full of remorse.

'Yeah, sorry, you're right...' he started, but was interrupted by Ennoshita.

'No, it was my fault, sorry. I'll go sit down,' he said, taking a seat on the furthest table from the counter, as if making a point.

His face was softer as he said, 'You two are just too adorable, if he'd seen that, it would have finished him off.' He winked, and walked off to the counter.

Akaashi sighed, and looked over at Ennoshita, who was looking at his phone. They'd been pretty close to each other, and he was glad Bokuto had interrupted them, not just to save Suga from more upset, but before their first kiss had been wasted across a sandwich counter.

He shook himself, and went to get the salad from the fridge. He added a drizzle of olive oil, and gave the bowl a final toss, before taking it over to Ennoshita.

'I hope it's ok, I haven't made one in a while.'

'It looks great, thanks. Listen, before you go back to work, I was wondering if you were free on Saturday. I just got an email about something I think you might be interested in. There's an pop-up restaurant opening in town. I know the owner, so I got invited to the first night. Fancy it?'

'Is this... are you asking me out on a date?'

Ennoshita looked at him, as if it was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. 'Of course I am. Are you free?'

'Yes, definitely.' He was a bit taken aback by how easy that was. He envied that, how straightforward he made it look; while Akaashi was making elaborate plans with baked goods and crying into whiskey glasses, Ennoshita just knew what he wanted, and asked for it.

'Excellent. I'll forward you the email, so you know where it is. No, actually, I think a surprise would be better. Can we meet outside here?'

'That sounds lovely.' He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

'Well, it _is_ our first date. It ought to be, really.' He smiled up at him. Akaashi liked the sound of the 'first' in that sentence.

'Eat your food, I'll get the other thing ready.'

–

When he'd finished eating, Ennoshita went back to the counter. Sitting waiting for him was a brown paper bag.

'How much does he owe you?' he asked, getting a five pound note from his wallet ready to pay for his lunch.

'Oh, it's on me, don't worry.'

He looked confused as he picked up the bag, and checked the contents. 'Why? I didn't know you knew Sawamura that well. I thought you were just having a meeting with him last week.'

'Hang on. Hasn't he told you why he wanted this?'

'No, he just asked if I could get it from you when I next came in.'

'But then you're giving it to Suga, aren't you?'

'Yes, but.. how do you know that?'

Akaashi was gobsmacked. 'He didn't tell you what happened? He just asked you to get this, give it to Suga, and you didn't even ask why?'

'It's none of my business,' he said, as frank as always. 'What's the fuck is going on, Keiji?'

'Now's not the time. You're going to be late back. Just... go give it to Suga, and I'll tell you on Saturday.' He smiled as he pushed him gently towards the counter before he could ask anything else.

Thankfully, he didn't argue any more, and walked over to the counter. He could see him ask Bokuto something, to fetch Suga obviously, and he felt second hand nerves. Ennoshita looked back over at him, still curious, but he only got a thumbs up in response.

Suga came out, looking baffled, and Ennoshita stretched out the bag towards him, saying something. Still unsure, Suga took the bag from him, and gingerly removed the contents.

Akaashi could almost hear the gasp in his throat from where he was, but he could definitely see the flush colouring his face. He dropped what he was holding onto the counter, and moved out from behind it, taking a stunned Ennoshita into a hug. Akaashi laughed as he caught his eye, still looking dazed at the reaction.

Suga finally released him, and Ennoshita waved towards the food counter as he left the shop. Akaashi's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out to see a message from him.

 **Ennoshita > **You HAVE to tell me what that was all about.

 **Akaashi >> **Saturday, I promise.

Suga was already coming over to him, the gift in his hand. His face had regained a bit of the hardness it had been wearing all week, but the happy flush from before was lingering around his ears.

'Did you do this?' he said, waving it at him

'I made it, but it wasn't my idea, I promise. It was all Sawamura.'

He went to stand behind Suga, looking over his shoulder at it again.

'You did a superb job,' his boss said, 'You're wasted here, you know.'

Akaashi had been much happier with his product this time. It was a nicer font, more gentle, with looping on the I and the Y, and no capitals this time. He'd chosen blue as his palette, icing a base of sky blue, and using a darker, almost navy blue for the lettering.

'I'm sorry,' the cookie said.

–

The rest of the day went by more pleasantly. The cookie had had the desired effect, with Suga humming and smiling at customers again. He'd even apologised, quite unnecessarily, for swearing at them.

'You're the boss, and we were standing around talking,' Akaashi reassured him, 'You don't need to apologise.'

'But if you wanted to make us biscuits, I wouldn't say no,' Bokuto added, hopefully.

He hadn't heard from Ennoshita again, but then again, he didn't expect to. They had plans set up, and he spent the afternoon cleaning the kitchen and prepping for the next day, all the while wondering what he should wear. By closing time, he'd decided on a suit; an opening event sounded like something which needed formal wear, and he never got to dress up. Maybe he should go shopping during the day for a new tie.

'You ready to go? It's gone five.' Suga was standing by the back door, waiting for him so he could turn out the light.

'Sorry, I was miles away,' he said, taking off the apron and hanging it up.

'It's fine, he's worth daydreaming about.'

Akaashi looked down, sheepishly, and said, 'That was a nice thing he did.'

'It was. Now come on, it's been a long day, and I want to go home and do my own daydreaming.'

Shrugging on his jacket, Akaashi followed him through the shop to the front door. As he wound a scarf around his neck, he could see a figure through the big glass windows.

'Hey! I didn't know he was meeting you from work!'

'Me neither.' He smiled and started waving, but Ennoshita didn't smile, or wave back.

Worrying, he started going through the door, when he remembered Suga. 'Sorry, I'll wait..'

'It's fine,' he interrupted, 'I can lock up on my own. Go see what he wants.'

He didn't wait, just stormed through the door. Before he could say much more than his name, Ennoshita grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the alleyway between Koushi's and the supermarket next door.

'Well, this is nice...'

'Shut up a second. I need to say something.'

He immediately stopped talking, and Ennoshita picked up his other arm so he was holding both of his wrists. He took a deep breath. It was the most flustered Akaashi had ever seen him, he was starting to worry, but he stayed silent.

'I couldn't wait to hear the story. I asked Sawamura.'

'Oh.'

'You really made a cookie for me? And brought it to the bank?'

'Yes.' He looked down at their feet. His flour covered trainers looked hopelessly scruffy next to the shiny, brown brogues they were almost touching.

'That's so unbelievably charming. You're just so... romantic. I don't know if I can compete with you. Earlier on, I just blurted out that I wanted to go on a date, and all the time, you'd done this bloody fantastic thing, and I never even knew.'

He could feel heat spreading on the back of his neck.

'I'm so annoyed with her for getting the wrong person. I never got to see it. I would have listened to that cookie.' His hands slipped down from Akaashi's forearms, and held his hands.

'Really?'

'Of course. I would have called you. I thought you might like me, but I wasn't sure.'

'Same here.'

'You know now though, right?' Their hands were still laced together, and his thumbs moved to rub Akaashi's wrists.

He finally looked up, and into Ennoshita's face. 'I'm pretty sure we both like each other, yeah.'

'I know what's going to happen on Saturday. You're going to turn up, looking stunning. We're going to spend the evening learning more things about each other, flirting across the table, our legs nudging under it. Then I'm going to walk you home, hand in hand, and we'll have our first kiss under a lamp post near your front door. It'll be a perfect, romantic first date we'll always remember, no matter what happens in the future.'

Akaashi breathed out, ears and cheeks going pink at the thought. 'That sounds... really nice.' He shivered in anticipation, looking deep into Ennoshita's eyes.

'But, you know what? I can't wait until Saturday. I'm going to kiss you right now, in this alley way. It's not as romantic, but I can't wait another minute.'

He pulled Akaashi towards him, and their lips met. It was such a surprise, his eyes were still open, but as Ennoshita's mouth opened slightly, he closed them, moving his hands around his waist. He felt arms around his neck, pulling him down further into the kiss, and his mouth was opening too.

They moved away from each other, just for a second, looking into each other's eyes to check there was no hesitation, before they were crashing back into the kiss. Lips moved against each other, a tip of a tongue flicking, fingers moving to tangle in hair. Akaashi hummed as the hair at the nape of his neck was lightly tugged, and he responded by gently sucking Ennoshita's bottom lip, just for a second, before pecking a finishing kiss, almost chastely, against it.

They pulled apart again, this time with a little panting. Akaashi was first to break the silence.

'That was quite a first kiss,' he said, kissing the top of Ennoshita's head.

'I'm really glad I asked for no garlic now.'

Akaashi huffed a laugh into his hair. Pulling him in to a tighter hug, feeling him returning the embrace, he felt the happiest he ever had.

He couldn't wait for Saturday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

\-----------------------------------------

Here's a final illustration. I tried to make it look like fading daylight in an alley way, but I got sidetracked making Ennoshita's hair look shiny (story of my life). Click to see bigger

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/peskychloe/32929557472/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I meant to initially finish this, but as I was writing everyone, so many side plots opened up, and I absolutely adored writing these two. There's so much I didn't even put into it, they never talked about film making, and I really want to write that first date. Also we need to see what happens after that apology from Daichi, don't we? And I want to write something from Ennoshita's POV. So yeah, instead of making this fic longer, I'm going to start a series instead. Rare pair be damned! I know at least one person has enjoyed it and that's enough for me.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I know this is a rare pairing, but I really love these two, and I'm excited to continue if you'd all like to hear more of the story.
> 
> [Here's how I imagine them in this AU](http://pesky33.tumblr.com/post/156989489098/ennoshita-and-akaashi-from-cut-the-mustard)  
>  
> 
> [I'm on tumblr if you'd like to come say hello](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pesky33)


End file.
